My Favorite Color

From the time I was in kindergarten, teachers would ask the class to choose our favorite color, or write about our favorite color, or draw something using our favorite color. Whenever I was the VIP I would have to make a poster about some of my favorite things, including my favorite color.



Well, my favorite color is, and always has been, RAINBOW.

Of course, this was always followed up with, "Rainbow is not a color."

This became such a stressful thing for me. I love all colors. I love lime green and fuchsia. I love aquamarine and sunflower yellow. I love plum and ebony. Give me a new box of crayons and I am in heaven. All the beautiful colors of the rainbow so perfectly sharpened, snuggled tightly against each other. I loved picking out the colors one by one and reading the names on the wrappers. I loved that Cerulean was the perfect color for my sky, Burnt Sienna for tanned flesh, and Dandelion for the sun.



Here I am, 46 years old, and I still cannot choose. And why should I have too? My favorite color? Well, it really is very simple. My favorite color is Rainbow.

Claustrophobia, Heights, and Water

So, I admit it, I have a few phobias.

Fist of all, I don't like closed in spaces. A few years back I had to have an MRI. I thought I was going to die being placed in that very narrow tube. They expected me to hold still for twenty minutes, listening to all those clicking noises. Well, I accomplished the task, but I didn't like it all.



Many many years ago, my sister Lori and I were leaving JC Penneys. I suggested we take the elevator to go down to our parking level. Little did I know Lori was scared of elevators. I convinced her that nothing would go wrong. Liar! We got in the elevator just as the five o'clock shift change was taking place so it was crowded. I don't know if we were all too heavy or if it was just an elevator malfunction, but sure enough, we got stuck. It is really bad when a claustrophobic gets stuck in an elevator with what seems like several hundred tall people towering over her. Needless to say, the escalator is now our choice of travel.



I also get claustrophobic in caves. This hasn't stopped me from visiting Carlsbad Caverns, Kartchner Caverns, or the Mount Timpanogos Caves. I just have to let the beauty of the underworld overwhelm me so I forget my insecurities.



I am also scared of heights. I remember going to Six Flags over Texas and riding "the elevator" up to the top of the 30 story high observation tower. Once at the top, looking over the edge and down was enough to make me dizzy. I suppose if I were ever to get the chance to go to the Eiffel Tower, I would still want to travel to the top, but I still get a little nervous being that high up. As a side note, this picture shows the tower, but also the double loop roller coaster, the Shock Wave. As a teen I loved this roller coaster. Once after having ridden it three times, I was next up for my fourth turn. The passengers in front of me got on and the cars took off. Right before the first loop, the coaster came to a screeching halt. The roller coaster had broken down. I watched as the passengers were ushered off the coaster and made to climb down some steps welded into the frame of the roller coaster. After that, I never road a roller coaster of that magnitude again. Also, when my father went on it, he asked the worker when getting off if they had seen his toupee on the ground. He claimed he lost it on the loop. That was so funny...he was just bald, no toupee. Leave it to my dad to be funny!



Ever since I was small I have been scared of the water. I will get on a boat, a cruise ship, or in a swimming pool, but I never want to think of my head going under the water. Not being able to breathe (i.e. like even at the dentist) gives me the shakes. I don't like anyone touching me when I am in the water. I think this fear came from my father dunking me or picking me up and throwing me in the pool. Even in my thirties, if my dad got in the pool, I got out. Silly me, like he would try to dunk me or throw me around as an adult. I remember having swimming lessons as a young child. While my entire class was jumping off the diving board into the DEEP end, I was sitting in the shallow end feeling like a failure. On a vacation to Lake Tahoe about 14 years ago, I decided to challenge myself. I dropped a penny in five feet deep water, spent a good fifteen minutes getting my courage up, and dove down and got it. Yay me! Stupid me!



A favorite combination for both my claustrophobia, my fear of heights, and water is the airplane. Every time I get in an airplane I still wonder how an object weighing 900,000 pounds manages to stay in the air. And there we all sit in this narrow confined space acting like it is completely normal. When flying out of Los Angeles, we always fly over the ocean to circle back around...yep, high, enclosed, and over water. With that being said, I have my passport and would travel from one end of the earth to the other given the chance. Good thing I know how to keep my fears in check!

I'll Take The Dough Any Day !

I love cookie dough and cake batter. I grew up asking for "cookie on a spoon" before the cookies were ever placed on the cookie tray. I would rather lick the beaters than have the cooked cake.



Most recipes make a 9 X 13 pan of cake or brownies. But when I have it my way, I make an 8 X 8 pan and my kids and I devour the rest RAW !



I also am not opposed to pie dough. Any leftovers get rolled into a ball and popped into my mouth. And bread dough is right there too.



The rule in the house was, whoever makes the blueberry muffins gets the bowl. If one of us is in a sharing mood, we might hand off the spatula to a begging face of despair.



In the news we hear about raw eggs making people sick.



But I'll take my chances, because this girl has never been anything but happy with the rawness of her desserts!

Let There Be Light !

I love light. I am sure I have Seasonal Affective Disorder because each winter in Sandy I would get a little sad. The inversions, the gloomy weather, the day getting dark at 5:00 pm all added to my lack of luster. There are so many things that give light to the world, and happiness to my life.

I love the sunshine. Moving to Southern Utah has been good for me for this reason. It is February and I am wondering when winter is going to come...but then I remember, there really isn't a winter in Southern Utah. The warmth of the sun, the brightness of the day, all make me happy.



I love the stars. I remember one particular Girl's Camp just a few short years ago when I was standing literally in the middle of nowhere...I looked up and not only did I see so many stars, but I saw the milky way. It took my breath away. I am humbled by the night sky with all its twinkly lights.



I love fireworks. The sounds that alert me that a burst of color is going to fill the sky. I watch them in awe as they explode here, there and everywhere. Single or in the form of a finale, they mean summer to me.



I love fireflies. Growing up in Texas, I would take a jar out and catch them. They would light up the jar for several minutes before I released them back into the air and would find more to catch. While attending the Nauvoo Temple Open House, we stayed in a bed and breakfast in Nauvoo. It was charming and quaint, and it had fireflies! I was so excited to relive my childhood through those tiny lightening bugs and share my memories with my children.



As I mentioned in an earlier post, I also love Christmas lights. Whether they are adorning houses, trees, or the Disneyland Electrical Parade, they bring me so much joy.



With the flick of a light switch the room can be brighter, with the rising of the sun a world can be illuminated, with the light in my eyes I can thank my Heavenly Father for the wonderful gift of light.

Texas Girl at Heart

I am a Texan...born and bred. I love the state of Texas. I love that everything is big in Texas. When I first left Texas for BYU, I had a 1980 Buick Regal...a big car with velour interior that could have had longhorns on the front! I love the big hair, the big jewelry, the big purses. I love that the clothing is blinged out. I love that my favorite place to shop is called Dressin' Gaudy. I loved putting peanuts in my coke. I love the Southern bible belt...when people cross your way they say, "Have a blessed day." I love the Tex-Mex. I have yet to find Mexican food I love as much anywhere else.



It is hot and humid in Texas. There are sirens that blare when a tornado is in your vicinity. The boys wear Wranglers and cowboy hats...and though I don't agree with it, most have a circle in the back of their pockets where they carry their chew. My papa was not a member of the LDS church. He always had a can where he spit his chew. It is a cowboy thing.



Texas is a big, big state. When I was in mutual, we would take a temple trip from Ft. Worth to Mesa, Arizona at least once a year. To get from Ft. Worth to the edge of the state, El Paso, it took foreeeevvvveeeerrr. Texas is flat...some say if you stand on a tuna can you can see the whole state.



I love that my grandparents lived on a ranch. I grew up catfishing, riding horses and looking at oil derricks. We carried a hoe to chop off the head of any approaching snakes, picked blackberries for cobbler, and caught turtles with our fishing poles. It was a wonderful life. We also drove the Herbie car at a very young age. Sometimes one would steer while the other pushed the pedal because we were too little to do both. And with the recent movie, "The Help", I must mention that my granny had "help". Her name was Jewel and she was a jewel. In the mornings, she would listen for my little feet to patter down the hall and she would pour the milk on my cereal right before I entered the kitchen. Then she would lovingly be with me during my breakfast. Jewel was family to me.



Growing up in Texas meant a day off from school to go to the Fat Stock show. We would all don our cowboy hats and boots and take off to the stockyards. The rodeo was the best part. This year the Pennington family was recognized as having come to the Rodeo for the past 65 years. What a wonderful legacy. I also loved the concerts and country dancing at Billy Bob's. I saw Ronnie Milsap there.



I have reconnected with many of my high school friends on facebook. We had a graduating class of 500 students. Although I never was asked to a homecoming dance, I still am amazed at how the Texans celebrate homecoming. The boy gives the girl a mum to wear that day. The mum(s) is decked out with streamers and glitter and cowbells. It is showy, just like you would expect in Texas. These are some of my friends with their mums. Betcha didn't believe me until you saw them!



Every so often, someone will ask me, "Where you from?" and I realize they have picked up on my Texas accent. It is barely there anymore, but the ya'll and the long i's (like in fiiiiive) sometimes give it away. When I go back I think the Texans sound like the Beverly Hillbillies with their Southern drawls, but I love it. If I spend too much time with them, my accent comes right back!



My dad, my little sister Ginger, and I were all born in Texas. When my dad died Christmas Eve day of 2010, my cousin and aunt sent us some Texas dirt. Before the casket was lowered, I poured the dirt in the hole, making sure he was buried on Texas soil.



We Texans are proud of our state and our heritage. It has been many years since I have lived there, but I am still a Texas girl at heart.

I Got To Find Out Who I Am

There is a Michael McLean song that keeps going through my mind. It is the title of this blog post...I Got To Find Out Who I Am. I feel like with the dissolution of my marriage, and the separation of my family due to divorce, missions, moving and just plain children growing up...my past life is becoming obsolete. The words in one of the verses says this:

I got to find out who I am
Got to know and got to see what's making me me.
And when I do I know I'll be what I can
When I find out who I am.
I'll be all I can
When I find out who I am.

So for the month of February, I am going to write a little bit about myself each day. As I discover myself, I bet I will find I am not that much different, I am not invisible, I am still me.

Merry Christmas Daddy